I'd Rather See You Dead Little Girl
by AblackbirdInStrawberryFields
Summary: Luna, she's like any of us, loves the Beatles and the fanfiction. What if what happens in the stories she loves, actually happens to her?
1. Don't Bother Me

I woke up to the soothing beats of the Beatles song "Im So Tired." How ironic. I must've fallen asleep listening to them yet again. But who could blame me? They calmed me down. Made me feel better. Helped me get away.

"Luna!" I heard the familiar voice of my mom calling from the kitchen, "Breakfast is on the counter! Im leaving for work!"

Well obviously. Its not like she was ever here. She was always working, work, work, work. Same situation with my dad.

I checked myself in the mirror and sighed. I wasn't ever to pleased with my appearance. I finger-combed my short brown hair, and attempted to rub the sleep out of my brown eyes. Not much of an improvement, but it would do.  
>I trudged to the kitchen, seeing a box of cereal and an empty bowl sitting on the counter. Some breakfast.<p>

After a couple minutes of picking the cereal out of the box while watching reruns of Spongebob, I decided to do something. I didn't mind being alone, so I decided not to call anyone. I would just go to the roof of the house and listen to some music. It was early enough to catch the sunrise. I skipped to my bedroom, grabbed my most loved possession, my ipod 'George' and went to the bathroom. The upstairs bathroom window led access to the roof. I slipped out with ease, and sat cross-legged on the rough surface. I played "I'll Follow the Sun" and proceeded to stare until the sun came up.

I pushed myself up, to get a better view of the first bits of the golden rays, and a piece of the shackles broke off.

I slipped.

I slid right down the roof, as easily as if it was a playground slide, until I was standing on the very edge, barely keeping myself up. I kept flailing my arms about like you do when you're about to fall. Which I was. My heart felt like it did when you had a mini heart-attack when you play a song and its 20 times louder than you thought it would be. It was pounding.

One step was all it would take to bring myself to safety. One step. I almost had lifted my foot up, when a tiny piece of the ledge crumbled. It simply crumbled.

And I fell.

And then, nothing.

Im not sure how to explain the next part. I was there, but I wasn't. Its as if I was standing absolutely nowhere, doing nothing, but thinking. I could think to myself. I just couldn't do anything.

What had happened? Did I fall? Well no, or else I would be dead. Unless I was dead. Was I dead? Oh god I was dead wasn't I! Im such an idiot! Mom always said to be careful on the roof, or don't go on at all. A sunrise cost me my life! A sunrise! Not that it wasn't beautiful, it was, but I would rather be able to live then watch the sunrise. What now. Was I here forever?

While I was left blabbering, even in my own mind, I didn't notice that I was suddenly somewhere.

There were these golden gates. Huge beyond imagine. Shining so bright, I felt that my thick sunglasses back home weren't enough. I looked down.

I had a body again. I was wearing a white t-shirt, and white sweat pants. Huh.

I was fixated on the gates again. I felt the biggest need I've ever felt in my entire life to get in those gates.

I sprinted, feeling like I had so much more energy than back home. I could run forever. It felt as if I were on clouds everything was so light.

Suddenly there was a tugging sensation around my stomach, as if a cowboy had rode up with his lasso and got it right over me. It was pulling me back, and I resisted. I ran faster, harder, reaching out towards the gates. It wasn't enough. I was being jerked back against my will, away from my only hope, and also from my biggest want in the entire world.

I screamed, and wriggled, and yelled. Nothing worked. I finally went limped and was dragged into the darkness.

Next thing I know, my eyes are fluttering open. To the moon. A beautiful, full moon. Pushing myseld up, I glanced around.

I was sitting on a street, big buildings surrounded me. It was night, and I was alone.

I heard a car chugging up the road so I scrambled up and dashed into an alleyway. A very outdated car whizzed by. Hm.

I walked out, glancing at some pictures on a barbershop window. The hairstyles were terribly large, and the dresses looked as if it was the 60's.

I was so confused. Where had I just been, where am I now, and how was I not dead? A newspaper fluttered by with the small gust of wind. I picked it up, figuring some news would snap me back to my senses. The date said November 13, 1962.

What?

Well that explains the car, the pictures, the dresses, and just the look of the town in general. What was going on here?

"Its going to be alright," a deep voice said. I whipped my head around and saw a man in a white shirt, blazer, and dress pants standing before me. I almost screamed, but there was something nice and welcoming about him.

"It is, is it? Then why aren't I back home eating Lucky Charms, watching Spongebob, wrapped in my penguin blanket, huh?" I demanded.

"You're a feisty one aren't you," he smirked, "anyways, yes its going to be fine. This is your new life now."

"Excuse me?" I put my hand on my hip.

"You died. But you're not supposed to be dead."


	2. Help!

"Thank you mister sci-fi novel! Cool story bro, tell it again?" I said.

"You're not supposed to be dead. You see, Im part of this group. Its part of the supernatural I suppose you could say. Some people die, who were not meant to. Just because of a fluke in the universe. Your fluke happens to be that small piece of shackle that broke beneath you. Thats what killed you. But oh no, that shackle was not supposed to break, that shackle was not part of your plan. Its our job to fix it. Since in your life before, you're dead, so we obviously can't send you back. So we put you in a new life, a new body, a new time. Seen yourself lately?"

I gasped. I sped over to the barbershop window and stared at my reflection. A different reflection stared back at me. I had shaggy, layered, blue-black hair, and round sea green eyes. I was was slightly shorter than before, now about 5'0. My nose was more upturned, and my lips more round. But this wasn't me.

"Who am I!" I put my head in my hands. I always had a problem with panic. I was shaking.

"You can keep your name Luna. You've been called that your whole life. You live on your own in a flat just down the road, here in London. Your parents live back in the states, you came here to do some studying. Your last name is Bolet. Your birthday is April 19th, 1944. You're 18 years old. The rest you can come up with yourself."

"This isn't true, it isn't. This isn't happening. Im asleep. I fell asleep watching Spongebob flip Krabby Patties. This is a dream. This is not real. Its a lie."

"Im sorry. Its not." The man said.

So I did what anyone else would do. I ran like the wind.

I stopped a couple blocks ahead, catching my breath, my hands on my knees. What now? An image flashed into my mind, me as a small 8 year old, crying in my bed, my moms arms wrapped around me.

"Mom it was so awful. The spiders mom. They chased me, all the way to China. They wanted to eat me mommy, I don't want them to eat me." I cried into my moms shoulder. She quietly shushed me, telling me it was ok. "If you ever have another nightmare as bad as that one, pinching won't do. You've got to jump Luna. Find something to jump off of. It'll wake you up, and the scary people will be gone." My mom smiled.

"You really think that'll work?" I asked quietly.  
>"I know it will," she touched my nose "now get some sleep." She switched off the light and slipped out.<p>

Thats what I had to do! This was a dream, a nightmare even. I needed to jump. I wanted to be back home.

I ran into the nearest building, the door was unlocked. It was empty, it wasn't rented out yet. I took the stairs two at a time all the way to the roof. The roof door was locked. Guess it'd be a window then. I slipped into one of the higher rooms, and stood on the window ledge, peeking down. It was higher than I thought. It wouldn't hurt though. It was a dream anyways. I just needed to step forward and... suddenly I heard voices. Male voices, joking around with one another, laughing like madmen. The strolled around the corner, 4 or 5 of them, yelling. They wouldn't see me. I was on a window ledge a few stories high, in the middle of the night. No, they wouldn't see me.

They saw me.

Well one did. He caught my eye, his eyes widening in fear. He jabbed his friends and pointed at me, they talked quietly.

"Luv, what you doin' on the window?" One asked. A scouse accent I think I heard.

"I think Im jumping." I said it like a question.

"May I ask why?"

"Because I need to wake up. This is a dream."

"Im pretty positive this is not a dream. Lads, is this a dream?" A chorus of "no's" followed.

"It is! Now walk along! Im going to wake up and get the hell out of here!" I almost screamed.

"Please miss, come down. You don't want to do that. I swear upon my life and all of the others lives that this is not a dream. Come down."

"Yeah!" another one joined in, "I don't think you want to die! Living is pretty nice. Don't die."

What now? This was a dream, they weren't real. They sounded pretty convincing though, and now I was a little to petrified to jump. But I had to. I lifted one foot and...

"STOP!" another one yelled, "Don't do it! Please! Why are you doing it?"

"This. Is. A. Dream." I yelled, "A terrible dream! I just want to get out!"

"This is real, don't you understand? No matter how unrealistic things may seem, you never know, it could actually happen! Pinch yourself! Does it hurt?" He called.

I pinched myself, feeling a slight stab of pain. But that didn't totally disapprove that this wasn't a dream. I was going to do it.

Then I felt strong arms wrap around my stomach and jerk me inside. One of them had come up here. I was flung over his shoulder and carried down the stairs.

I kicked and screamed, but with my new body, I was way smaller, and smaller equals less convincing.

I finally felt my feet hit the ground, I moved my hair out of my face, since it was a lot shaggier than before, and peeked up.

I was looking into the faces of my heroes.

Ladies and gentleman, The Beatles.


	3. You Won't See Me

Well, obviously this wasn't possible. The Beatles were from the 60's. And Im not. So its not them, Im hallucinating of course, because Im not back at home relaxing. So what did I decide to do? The only thing that came to my mind as a plausible solution. I ran.

Not a good idea, I was pretty much breaking down, crying, shaking, maybe even twitching a little. But I kept on running for my life.

I tripped of course.

And everything went inevitably black.

Ok where was I now. I felt my eyes flutter open, feeling like I was blind from the sudden light.

"Ey' she's waking!" I heard a voice yell. Footsteps sounded on the floor, so my eyes shot open. Four guys stood before me. Sure, I recognized them, it didn't mean I wasn't scared out of pants.

I ran yet again. Man I should lose a couple of pounds by the end of this dream.

I went to the other side of the room, up against the wall.

"Hey its alright," one of the men put his hands on my shoulder, I cringed away. I've got a pretty strong personality, but once Im scared, I feel as if I should be put in a mental institution.

I ran out the front door, as far as I could run. After I had put enough distance between me and that house, I sat on a bench for a breather. I had nowhere to go, nothing to eat, no family to talk to, nothing.

So I sat there. I went through all the events from today hoping to see an explanation. But my mind wandered all the way to where I was thinking about having a pet cow. Maybe I should really be put in a mental institution.

My stomach growled. I was so high-strung from today, it made me jump. I was really hungry though. Maybe I should just go back. What if it really is the Beatles. Hadn't I always hoped something like this would happen? It was pretty much the one thing I wanted most in life.

So I stood up, put on my big girl panties, and marched back the way I had come.

When I got back, I hesitantly knocked on the door. It was thrown open by none other than Paul McCartney.

"You're back! Lads she came back!"

The other three came to the door. I felt like passing out.

"You hit your head pretty hard when you tripped, we were kinda worried." Paul said.

"Im fine." I stated.

"Come in," Paul said, closing the door.

"Does she need to come in? I had to carry her here, she can go home." John muttered.

"Piss off dude! I just came by to say that I actually don't really know where to run to, can I get directions somewhere?" He looked a little surprised. I guess most girls he's met don't tell him to piss off.

"You don't have a home?" George piped up.

"Well no. I don't know how I got here actually, but thats a different story."

"Well then stay with us." That would be Ringo.

"What no thats to easy. It shouldn't be that easy. I shouldn't be able to waltz into your house and ask to stay with my her-" I stopped there. Hell, it was only 1962, not many people knew them yet.

"We're your what?" John asked.

"..Heroes?" I looked up. This new body of mine was way tiny, and I wasn't really appreciating it. I liked to look a little intimidating, but I can't really when I have to crane my neck to look at him in the face.

"We're your heroes are we? Ah well now you're defiantly staying with us. No arguments." John said.

"No. Its to easy, and to good to be true, so Im going somewhere else." I marched out the door with the final word.

Where would I go? No idea. Just on a whim here. If I was starting a new life, even though this wasn't real, then heck, I'd start a new life. And maybe the Beatles will be in it along the way. Im just not letting myself get something so easily.

Turns out, this new life thing was easier than I thought. There was a huge wad of cash in my pocket, an I.D and flippin' instructions. Check into the hotel. I followed the directions on the instructions and found the hotel. I already had a room. And there was a full suitcase in the room. So much for not getting something so easy.

I flopped down on the bed. Maybe I'd become an actress. Always wanted to do that. Or maybe even a model. I loved 60's fashion. I checked myself in the mirror again. Not bad. Good face, skinny enough I suppose, it was just the height. Models had to be tall.

Eh, I'd worry about this tomorrow. I was to sleepy to care.

I woke up to sunlight trying to burn off my eyelids. I hopped up and put on one of my new outfits. Now what? I didn't even know what to do with myself. Suddenly I heard the door being thrown open, two guys in black mask stormed in, one put me in a stranglehold, the other blind-folded me. And gagged me, which pretty much sucked because I had one hell of a scream. Actually, did I? This new body may be different. I really hoped I still had my scream.

I was dragged away, and then flung over someones shoulder. I hated being carried. But mother of god, what was going to happen to me? I was going to die of course. Then I would finally wake up from this dream, so I wasn't as scared as I usually was. But still scared enough.

I was thrown onto a chair, my gag taken off. There we go.

I let out the loudest scream I had in me. Yup, I still got it! A hand was thrown over my mouth, the blindfold ripped off. Four guys stood before me yet again. Two with mask. Laughing their butts off.

Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, people of the Earth, may I once again, introduce the one, the only, the Beatles.


	4. Piggies

"THAT. WAS. NOT FUNNY." I yelled, shooting up out of the chair.

"We beg to differ actually," John laughed. He was one of the two in the mask. Figures.

"Why'd you do that?" I suddenly shifted my expression to sad, hoping to get some guilt out of them.

"Well to bring you back!" George said.

"Yeah 'ere we are walking along and we see you trying to jump off a building, we get you down, you run away, you trip, we bring you home, you run away, you come back remembering you have nowhere to go, you leave, and we decided to bring you back. We want you to stay with us." Ringo joined in.

Well, what if I did stay with them? It would make me happy, and why not treat myself once in awhile? And besides, its not like one of them was going to fall in love with me like in the great fan-fiction I read back home. That realm of happiness was so far out of reach, why even try to get it. Yeah, I would just stay with them. Stay with them and enjoy myself. I had been wanting all my life to have a nice little conversation with the Beatles and here was my chance, being handed to me on a silver platter.

"You know what? I think I will." I sat back down crossing my legs pretentiously.

"Oh good!" Paul smiled.

"Not really Im pretty much a bitch and you're going to regret this." I said.

"I second that." John muttered.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH JERK OFF," I yelled.

"I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I" JOHN SAID.

"YOU'RE A CHILD LENNON."

"Ok! No fighting, not now," Paul jumped in.

I shrugged and found my way to the kitchen, I needed to get food, like now.

"Guys what food do you have?" I called.

They all followed me in, and of course John had to say something.

"You're a girl, you don't have to eat all the time."

"Im hungry man, so why don't you tell me where the food is before someones ass gets kicked."

"Feisty isn't she." Ringo said.

I spotted a plate with some doughnuts, and pounced.

"Doughnuts!" I squealed.

They all stared as I scarfed it down, and then they started laughing. Glad I could entertain.

"So. What now?" I asked.

"I dunno actually, we were just relaxing today."

"Chillin' like a villain, I am very ok with this."

I shrugged, went into the little sitting room, grabbed a pillow and jumped onto the couch. They followed me again.

"If you men don't mind Im taking a nap time."

"Nap time?" George asked.

"Yes, I would like to have nap time twice a day, so I want quiet."

"Paul, I think this is going to be harder than we planned." Ringo said.

Later

"And this is our club, we play here sometimes, but not tonight." Paul escorted me in to a gritty looking room that smelled like alcohol and sweat but a cool atmosphere.

Minutes after we walked in the four Beatles already were with girls, using their annoying charm. I just sat at the bar and watched people dance. The Beatles should have at least one sober enough person to make sure they didn't do something really stupid so I just drank a tiny bit.

"Not from here?" a scruffy guy asked, nodding his head at me.  
>"Nope."<p>

"Where then?"

"Hell."

"Nice, want a drink?"

"Not really but if you really feel the deep need, the want inside your soul, to buy me a drink, nothings stopping you."

"How about a date then?"

"Well let me think about that. Man, I don't know you, you could be a cold-blooded killer planning to seduce me into your home, then tearing me limb from limb, using my elbow as a trophy. You never know."

"Im not a killer, my names Peter."

"I've once heard of a killer named Peter you know."

"Thats not me, just come on a date with me yeah?"

I knocked my head back and forth weighing the offer.  
>"Yeah sure man."<p>

"Pick you up tomorrow night, bout 8?"

"Sounds fan-freaking-tastic." I said, jumping down from my stool.

"Wait where do you live love?" He inquired.

"Know those guys?" I asked pointing at the Beatles.

"Sure, they play here a lot."

"I live with them, just go down the road and you'll see a gray flat, and will most likely hear obnoxious shouting. That'd be the place."

"Uh, got it."

And with that I shuffled away.

"Going somewhere?" George was suddenly in front of me.

"Yup, home."

"Me too, you shouldn't be walking down these streets alone ok, not at night. Make sure you have somebody to walk with from now on."

Dude one of the Beatles was starting to care about me! What a day!

"Alrighty lets go." I skipped out.

Whoa, I didn't realize how tired I was, and the alcohol I had was harder on me than usual, yet another disadvantage of being a pipsqueak.

George, noticing my wobbling hoisted me onto his back, giving me a piggy-back ride home.

Yeah a Beatle just gave me a piggy-back ride, maybe this was a pretty good idea.


	5. You Can't Do That

What a headache man. Water, that's what I need. And medicine.

I threw off the blanket, taking my time to open my eyes so the headache doesn't get worse.

Wait.

Where was I? This wasn't my house and this was not my bed. Or my shirt.

All of the events poured back into my head like water that I wish I was pouring right now. The Beatles. Peter. The club. My piggy back ride. And my death.

That part still freaked me out a lot. I died. But here I was with two men that were also supposed to be dead, I guess miracles happen.

I heard clanking and laughing coming from the kitchen so I zoomed right on in. There they were, four of the best musicians of all time, having pancakes.  
>"Excuse me guys I have a question." I said raising my hand.<p>

The laughter ceased, four pairs of eyes staring at me.

"Yes what is it luv?" George asked.

"Who's shirt is this, and who the flying fuck put it on me?"

Silence for a few moments, then laughing. And the laughter was coming from John.

"Uh, yeah John put it on you..." Paul looked down.

So John Lennon changed my clothes while I was asleep. I could sue man.

"And why?" I asked.

"Well you needed to change shirts, it's been a day!" John defended.

"Dude you don't just take my clothes off without my permission!"

I grabbed a pancake and stormed out. I walked out the front door, plopping onto the steps.

The door swung opened and Ringo walked out.

"Hi Luna," He sat down next to me.

"Hey man." I stared at the ground.

"Sorry bout John, he likes to bother girls. Why don't we take you to dinner tonight, y'know, to get better acquainted with each other?"

"I would, that's pretty much been my life dream, but I got a date tonight."  
>"Already? You don't waste any time do you."<p>

"Hey what can I say, I'm irresistible!" And with that I went back to my comfortable sleeping quarters, the couch.

I heard some more muttering in the kitchen so I listened in, of course.

They were talking about my date tonight. Paul sounded a little outraged, John snorted, George sounded worried.

They all walked into the living room.

"Luna how much do you know about this guy?" George asked.

"Tons dude, I've only known him my whole life."

"Seriously."

"Nothing, I met him at the club last night and he asked me out, all there is to it."

"Maybe you shouldn't go out with him then." Paul sounded... jealous.

"Hey guys don't worry I'll be fine."

"You don't know the guy. And to be honest, you're a little to small to take care of yourself." That'd be John.

"Oh by the way I think you should listen to this new song I found, it's called shut the fuck up." I retorted as I drifted back to sleep.

"Luna? Wake up!" My eyes split open and I saw Paul's blurry figure.

"What time is it man?" I said rubbing my eyes.

"7:45."

"Balls man I have a date in fifteen minutes!" I jumped off the couch and went to get ready.

I had gotten my suitcase from the hotel after these guys kidnapped me so I could actually look decent. Black miniskirt, and a black fringed top. I walked out of the bathroom later and Paul whistled, so I gave him the bird.

"See you guys later!"

"Wait when are you coming home?" George asked.

"No idea, bye!" And I darted out the door.

Peter's shabby car was waiting out front, I slipped inside and we were off to the club.

Later

I wasn't having the best time. To much alcohol, no dancing, and a pervy date.

"Peter can we leave now?" I asked nervously. I was kind of afraid of this dude, wasn't the kind of person who's bad side you wanted to be on.

"Sure thing baby."

"I'm not your baby."

He forcefully grabbed my hand and dragged me out. Once I was able to take a big breath outside of the crowded club I asked "Pete, can I drive? You've had a lot to drink."

"No, I'm driving." He simply answered, getting in the car.

I sighed and got in to. He swerved a little along the way, but he seemed accustomed to being tipsy.

I laid my head back and closed my eyes, I was a little tired. Next thing I knew, I was being carried.

My eyes shot open and I saw a house that wasn't mine. I looked at my carrier. Peter.

"Peter where are we?"

"My house."

"Can I go to mine?"

"No."

He kicked open the door, surprisingly good for a drunk man, and went into a room. A bedroom.

"Peter I'd really rather go home," but it was to late, I was thrown onto a bed, and he was on top of me.

"Get off of me!" I yelled, thrashing a bit, but he took hold of my hands and pinned them down, kissing my neck.

"STOP IT" I kept screaming but he was determined.

I felt his vile sweat rubbing on me, and a disgusting smell going up my nose. I was so uncomfortable and I wanted so much for it to stop. He shoved a hand up my top, and kept trying to take it off.

With every ounce of force I had in this tiny little body, I picked up my knee and slammed it right into his no-no spot. He moaned like a dying animal, rolling off of me, landing with a thud onto the floor.

I made a dash out of the room to the phone. I dialed a number I had already learned and it rang, every ring, I felt more desperate, I wanted to break down right there into tears.

"Hello?" It was John.

"John? It's Luna, come and get PLEASE."

"What? Where are you?"

There was some protest on the other line and suddenly it was both Ringo and Paul asking frantically what was wrong and where I was.

I gave them the rundown of what happened and they promised to be on their way.

I ran outside so I wouldn't have to face Peter again, and a car pulled up faster than I thought.  
>I scurried inside, but the boys were already out. They went inside, and were out a few minutes later.<p>

"W-what happened?" I mumbled.

"He's not going to bother you again." George said.  
>They all squished inside, me being pressed in between Ringo and George, and we drove home in silence. I guess I'd fallen asleep on the way back because I was suddenly in a bed.<p>

"We love you Luna," I heard someone say, and then a door creaked shut.


End file.
